Page 35 of Sugar, Spice, and Magical Moonlight (Midlife Menace #2)
I bristled at the sneers other striga gave us. They probably wondered how a family of satyrs could afford to buy ruggel tickets. Satyrs weren’t known for having a lot of magic, which meant they usually had low-level, minimum wage jobs, and ruggel tickets weren’t cheap.
It was especially hot outside as the sun beat down on our heads, and I wished I’d worn a sun hat, or maybe ninety percent less sweaty goat fur. Add Puffy’s sulfuric breath fanning my cheek to that. Though I couldn’t see him, I could feel his hot little body perched on Des’s shoulder.
Ric loudly cleared his throat as we approached the back of the line. That’s when I saw a group of witches in dark uniforms at the entrance, waving their wands over each spectator with a spell that revealed their auras before allowing them admission into the game.
I gave Ethyl a sharp look when she squeaked behind us.
Holy hex! I swallowed back bile. They were searching for the Phoenix. Would the spell I’d cast over us, concealing our auras, work, or would their counterspells overpower mine?
“Des,” I whispered, my goat voice rattling, “you remember the aaaura-dimming spell I taaaught you?”
“Don’t worry, Mama.” He squeezed my hand, beaming up at me. “I got it.”
Then he snapped his fingers, and I felt a strange sensation come over me, the buzzing magic in my veins lessening as if I was wearing a band of Sirenum Coral.
Ric grunted, looking down at Des, and I knew he felt his magic deplete too.
“Did you feel that?” Ethyl whispered in my ear.
“It’s Des, don’t worry,” I answered.
We finally made our way to the front of the line, and the hard gleam in the Insurgis’ eyes took me aback. It was then I noticed the dozens of Insurgi behind them, wands at the ready. They were expecting a fight today, which meant they knew we’d be here. And Des had dimmed my magic.
An Insurgi with an eye patch and a scar above his lip waved his wand over us. “Revilio.” He laughed when our weak auras manifested. “Satyrs,” he said on a sneer. “How’d you afford tickets to the game?”
Ric puffed up his chest. “We wonnn themmm,” he answered with a rattle.
The Insurgi laughed, sharing a look with his friends. “Good on you, satyrs. Try not to shit everywhere.” Then he let us pass.
Back and legs stiff, I held tightly to Des’s hand as we walked through and gave our tickets to the pygmy troll working the stall.
My nostrils flared and my ears rotated, my senses more alive than they’d ever been, and I smelled each individual scent around me all at once.
The place stank of sweat, a thousand different colognes, buttery popcorn, and cheap, pungent beer, along with the undertones of piss and vomit.
Eww. Sounds were magnified, too, each clap, ringtone, and noxious burst of laughter like an anvil to my eardrums. And the heat was unbearable, sweat turning my fur into my own personal rainforest, replete with all the malodorous moldy cheese goat smells.
Gross. I turned up my nose, trying hard not to suffocate on my own stench.
No wonder goats were usually so disagreeable. Talk about sensory overload.
I looked down at my son, squeezing his hand while worrying he wouldn’t be able to handle all this stimulation.
I felt my magic return as we spilled into a crush of striga, all vying for either the concession or souvenir stands.
I would’ve thanked my son, but I was too busy trying to keep him from being trampled.
Ric bleated, attempting to shield us from the brunt of the pushing and shoving while steering us through the throng.
I did a double-take when I saw a sprite hovering above the stands and scanning the crowd.
She closely resembled Bea, with similar dark hair and eyes and pale skin, and she was clearly looking for something.
Why did I have a sickening feeling she was searching for me?
I spared a quick glance over my shoulder, relieved when Ethyl, Frederica, and Shu made it through the gates. I caught Ethyl’s eye, and they followed us toward a nearby hallway leading to a janitor’s closet.
Then someone elbowed me hard. I let out a yelp, though what came out was a weird neigh as my tongue involuntarily waggled in protest. I felt a pressure in my behind, my tail twitching, and then the pitter-patter of goat turds rolled down my leg and bounced off my hooves.
How mortifying.
“Let’s hurryyy!” I cried, stomping on a striga foot with my thick hoof and not caring when a college-age witch scowled at me.
“Watch it, terrae,” she spat, her hand clutching her lipstick. Terrae were what those in the magical world called the lesser magics, mainly the satyrs and other furry striga. Have I mentioned how prejudiced most striga were?
I bleated at her, clutching my wand, my magic pulsing through my veins. Lucky for all of us, she backed down and moved the other direction.
Several more involuntary poop balls later, we finally made it out of the crush, piling into the hallway. I slumped against the janitor’s door with a relieved neigh, then grimaced when I felt more balls roll down my legs and scatter across the floor like a busted beaded necklace.
Ethyl made a face, fluttering high above Frederica. “Gross, Luci!”
“Don’t ussse my naaame,” I hissed. “And I can’t help my goat butthooole. It’s like a spring-loaded cannonnn.”
Des tugged on my sleeve, hope in his eyes. “The popcorn smells gooood.”
I gave Ric a wary look while remembering our first date, when he nearly bit my hand off inhaling my bucket of popcorn. “I don’t think popcorn is a gooood idea.”
“How about a Magic Crunch Bar and a soda?” Ethyl asked him.
“Gooood idea,” I said, especially since chocolate didn’t tempt Ric like warm butter.
Des eagerly nodded, then frowned. “There’s sooo many people in liiine.”
“I’ll get it,” Frederica said to us. “Stay here.”
“Here.” Ric slapped a wad of bills into her hand, nodding toward me. “And another soda for us to spliiit,” he said in his rattling goat voice. “Plus get yourseeelves something.”
Ethyl flew behind Frederica, sitting on her bare back and grabbing her mane as if she was getting ready to race. “Thanks!”
Hmm. Odd how Ric didn’t ask me what I wanted, just assumed I’d split a soda with him. I tried not to be irritated by it. He had a lot on his mind, after all. He was probably also fighting the urge to let the goat turds fly.
Frederica bulldozed her way through the crowd, trampling on the feet of anyone who got in her way and snarling when they protested. Ignoring the grumbles from the others, she pushed her way to the front of the line.
Ric gave me a stony look. “Something is off.”
I put up a translucent privacy bubble, so nobody would hear what we were talking about.
“Whaaat is it?” I pressed.
“Don’t you think it’s straaange they’re checking aaauras but not checking for deeemons?” he asked.
Shu scratched the back of his neck, his thick, bushy leprechaun brows dipping beneath the rim of his tall hat. “It’s almost like they’re not afraid of demons.”
That wasn’t good. There were only three kinds of striga who weren’t afraid of demons: fools, demon allies, and other demons.
I didn’t think the Insurgi got this far by being fools, which meant it was one of the other two options. Panic set in, my chest tightening, my world coming to a slow halt. How could they be allies or demons when I’d witnessed them capture or kill demons, along with their priests, the Vindicti?
“Maybe the Insurgi have been infiltraaated by deeemons.” Ric voiced aloud my fears, making my stomach roil and pitch, and yeah, more goat turds fly.
“Could my aaaunt be possessed?” I asked him, considering she was the leader of the Insurgi and currently had a price on my head.
He rubbed his goatee, his brow drawn. “It would explain why she turned on yooou.”
“I don’t thiiink she was possessed when we were withhh her,” I said, recalling when we’d first met. I hadn’t felt disoriented around her, and I hadn’t seen any red in her eyes, plus she ate sugar, something demons couldn’t tolerate.
“Maybe aaafter,” he bleated.
“How?”
He shook his head. “I don’t knooow.”
I nodded, thinking more and more that it made sense. She’d seemed kind when I was with her. Now she wanted me dead.
Ric tensed when Frederica and Ethyl returned with our refreshments.
I popped our privacy bubble, then thanked Frederica when she handed me a large soda.
It was cool and refreshing and helped quench my thirst in this sweltering heat.
Maybe Ric ordered for me because he was attuned to my needs, and I’d been overreacting about this and just about everything else, and I needed to focus less on the flaws in my boyfriend and more on those demons and witches hunting us.
THE ENCHANTRESS WASN’T lying when she said she got us box seats. I just wasn’t expecting to share that box with a bunch of rich douchebags who sneered at the goat family who dared invade their space.
I tried my hardest to ignore the many loud whispers of, “How did they get in here?” while also resenting the Enchantress for making Shu turn us into satyrs while choosing a Fae body for herself.
Luckily, Frederica was big and scary enough to keep anyone from throwing us out of the box.
Besides, I had enough to worry about as I kept my lipstick wand handy.
What if the Enchantress or Nimue had found a way to break the blood oath we’d made them sign earlier this morning, and they’d set up a trap for us?